Swan Song
by Vespersrain
Summary: She released a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. As relief washed through her, one painful thought reverberated in her mind, "They left me, they think I am dead." Her eyes were amber glass as tears threatened to escape her. She steeled herself, "I will not cry, not in front of the enemy." AU 7th Year.
1. Chapter 1

The tonality was so perfect he could not determine if the voice belonged to a woman or a man. They used to castrate young boys for that sound. This was definitely not a standard occurrence for the Malfoy family property. That young whelp probably couldn't stupefy a tone in a bucket. Intrigued, he made his way towards the sound. The sound became a song. The words raised the hair on his arms.

"Do not stand at my grave and weep. I am not there, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow..."

Poetry? A swan song then. What pathetic creature accepts their own demise? Inexplicably it rankled him. He moved towards the clearing, but stayed in the cover of the wood. Seven Death Eaters surrounded a young girl. That was hardly interesting, but what was in front of her surely was. That young girl had three corporeal patronuses and she was using them to relay a death message? What a waste of talent. More shocking still, she'd managed to get the Death Eaters to let her out at all.

"...I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there I did not die." He almost felt regret, the termination of her song would surely coincide with her demise. All seven wands were on her.

She turned to face her executioners. Her hands were up in the universal surrendered captive position. She tripped as she stepped back bracing herself. Her fall was comical, right until she rolled out of it wand ready. She took out the center Death Eater with a blaze of green. She was down again, rolling towards rather than away from certain death. A well placed Levicorpus and the nearest Death eater was barreling inverted towards his fellow casting in a panic towards friend and foe alike. Three down, but she could not survive 4 experienced Death Eaters. He moved silently towards the fray.

"Stupefy!" The girl fell. Shocked expressions greeted him as his Death Eaters knelt at his feet. The Dark Lord went to inspect his capture. The girl appeared to be about the age of a six or seventh year at Hogwarts. _Such dark spells little one_. His lips curved upwards. Immobile the girl was no beauty. Pretty yes, but there was no exterior marker to indicate her extraordinary capabilities. She looked normal- vulnerable. He moved her experimentally with his foot and her arm flopped into view. His followers zealotry induced a grin. MUDBLOOD read across her forearm in a fiery scab. The cut was deep and jagged; there would be a scar.

Pain burst through every synapse. Anger burst through her, she'd believed she'd never have to feel again. A beaker was thrust into her hands. She knew instinctively that she was meant to drink it, instead she let it clatter to the floor. She braced for more pain. A hand grabbed her face gently but firmly, the fingers pinched her nose shut as a second hand brought another beaker to her lips. _I should have known there would be another! _ She coughed half the contents out of and down her throat. She was livid and there was nothing but darkness. Minutes passed and she waited. The only sound was soft, steady, terrifying breaths.

"Who are you? What is this?" She demanded.

"What this is, an interrogation. Who I am, your interrogator. The Veritaserum has entered your bloodstream. You have an hour in which you live or die at the Dark Lord's pleasure. Do cooperate. Full name?"

"Herminoe Jean Granger."

"Year and school?"

"Hogwarts, 7th year."

"OWL Scores?"

"O for Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, Runes, Potions, Care of Magical Creatures, Astronomy, and History. E for Defense against the dark arts."

"Where did you learn Sectumsempera?"

"A friend's sixth year potions book."

He smirked, there was little doubt his follower had not been pleased by the appropriation of his book. "Well you are cooperating nicely! Blood status?"

"Muggleborn, you haven't asked anything important."

"Don't sass me child, again the Dark Lord will know, and your life does in fact depend on these 'unimportant' questions." He sounded bored. "How long have you been able to cast a corporeal patronus?

"Since 5th year, and I was supposed to die. Go ahead and kill me, it makes more sense than this interrogation of my personal life!"

"You are trying my patience, favorite colour? He said flatly.

"Blue maybe?" These were not the questions she had expected. She couldn't decided which was more terrifying, the apparently random questions or her invisible bored interrogator. "Why am I alive?

The interrogator was no longer bored. She could feel wrath emanate off of him. "You, are alive because I choose it. In time you may have figured out the answer for yourself, but you are now out of time! Crucio!"

As the pain left, panic set in. _Oh God, oh god, oh shit. Voldemort is my interrogator. _She answered more useless questions and felt strangely relieved he had not asked her anything beyond those insipid personal questions.

"You took out my Bella first. What was your reason?

"I took the queen," she said proudly.

"Clearly, but why not run?"

"I was outnumbered by older wizards. I was going to die. It was either going to achieve nothing or make the most of my end by taking that crazy, vindictive bitch with me."

"Why not use the killing curse more than once?"

"She said you have to mean it for the curse to work. She was the only one I hated enough. When will you kill me?" She heard an almost contented sigh.

"Obliviate."


	2. Chapter 2

Death felt warm and comfortable, like being engulfed in an over-sized winter blanket. It was perfect until the splitting headache started. She opened her eyes. As the haze left her eyes a face slowly came into focus. She blinked. Impossibly blue eyes. Blue so dark it would have appeared black in worse lighting. _A boy? _His hair was dark, the facial expression inscrutable. She'd never thought a boy could be beautiful. "I'm not dead, how?" She sat up as quickly as she could with her aching body. Staying down would imply that this stranger had some power over her or that she trusted him.

"You are alive because the Dark Lord wishes you to be." He raised a single eyebrow. "I am alive for the very same reason. Do tell me how you managed to impress him."

"I impressed the Dark bloody Lord? You're joking or you're mad."

"Give me another reason for your continued existence."

"That is why I am asking you." she couldn't stop the retort as her her temper flared.

He shifted in his chair, bringing himself uncomfortably close. His eyes bore into hers. "If rumors are true you have managed to off his most loyal servant. Sufficiently powerful enough to garner interest and dark enough to take on. He does quite enjoy employing one means to achieve multiple ends. That is simply one possibility of many."

"What do you mean take on?" She asked as a seasick boulder made its way from her neck to her stomach.

He abruptly leaned back into the chair, "If your case bears any resemblance to mine, I can only assume you are an apparently unwitting apprentice."

"That's ridiculous, why would he let me live? I killed that vile woman. She was his most loyal servant! He should be furious!" Fear, confusion, and frustration crashed through her like a wave. "This makes no sense."

"Sensible or no, your choices are apprenticeship or death. A death at his convenience, _leisure, _ and pleasure I might add." His facial expression was somewhere between a smile and a grimace, "I think it's better that you woke to find me here, rather than he. You might want to keep in mind his patience quickly runs...thin. Also, he doesn't like to repeat himself. It's in your best interest to learn whatever it is he says quickly and thoroughly."

Her eyes narrowed as she studied him, "If I didn't know any better I'd say you were actually trying to help me."

He rolled his eyes, "Well of course, it seems we are in the same boat so to speak."

"Who are you?"

He pulled his chin under and puffed up his chest in the manner of a preening Hippogriff, "I am called Tyr Greengrass."

"I've never heard of Daphne having an older brother." She eyed him. He didn't really look much like her, but not all families were like the Weasleys.

"That's because like you, I am dead. At least that's what everyone thinks."

"Are my friends alive?"

"They escaped with a house elf."

She released a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. As relief washed through her, one painful thought reverberated in her mind. _They left me, they think I am dead. _Her eyes were amber glass as tears threatened to escape her. She steeled herself, _I will not cry, not in front of the enemy._ There was no way to tell if Tyr spoke the truth and she desperately wished for skill in legilimency. She felt fortunate that there was someone who appeared to be kind, but she could not help but be suspicious of a kind Death Eater. "How did you impress him? When did he take you?"

"I was twelve, it was right after my first year at Hogwarts. Mother and Father believed in training us early." His attempt at a smile was sad, twisted, and full of longing. "Daphne probably barely remembers me. She is two years younger than me. I have a talent for transfiguration among other things. I was practicing out of my older brother's book and I guess Lucius saw me and mentioned something to the Dark Lord. The next thing you know, I am in this room by myself for months with nothing but HIM and books. Thank Merlin for the books." As he spoke his voice became increasingly bitter. She could feel the anger radiate off him and it felt strangely like magic. It was frightening. After a moment he composed himself, "May I ask who you are?"

"Hermione Granger. Sorry, but I'm sure you understand why I won't say it's a pleasure to meet you." She extended her hand and attempted a smile, "I'm still not certain this survival thing is the best plan at the moment."

He cocked his head to the side as if she were a strange and perhaps poisonous specimen, "Miss Granger, I assure you survival is always the very best plan." Watching her face closely, he took her hand and kissed it in a courtly fashion. Confusion and embarrassment played across her face in quick succession. He straightened, "It appears I am summoned. We will speak again." As he stood and made his way to the door, all expression left his face. When he reached the door he turned back to her, "You cannot leave this room without his mark. If I can I will let you know his intentions. Good day Miss Granger." The door shut behind him before she could reply.

After he left Hermione explored her environment. The walls were forest green and the wood was dark and expensive looking. The furniture was sparse yet stately which gave the effect was of a gentleman's library turned bedroom. The desk near the bed was empty save for stationary providing no clues for her to examine. The books on the shelves were a mix of seventh year course books, current research journals, and some rather dark looking spell books. The idea that Tyr might actually be correct in his assessment of her situation made Hermione's palms sweat. The dresser with robes that looked as if they might fit her seemed to confirm his theory. _At least I am not meant to be some toy to be paraded about in rags or party dresses. _She shook the thought from her head and found the adjoining bathroom.

The bathroom was a bathroom. Her reflection though, it was not her reflection. Jet ringlets had replaced her less poised mane. Her hand moved to her face in shock. Her eyes were the only thing she recognized. Her face was now heart shaped and delicate and it annoyed her. _I was fine just the way I was. I look like a female Tyr! _She rejoiced in the lock on the door and proceeded to take the fasted shower she had ever taken in her life. She did not know who would be coming and when they would come, but her instincts told her that she would not be left alone long.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Hi all and welcome to one of the few authors note I will submit you to. 1. It may be a couple of weeks until I update. I took on a heavy load this semester. 2. This is my first fan fiction and I want to give you the very best so please review and let me know how I can improve. 3. After today all responses to reviews will be after the story.

As I should have mentioned earlier: all characters are property of JK Rowling who has so generously allowed us to run wild with them.

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He stalked down the hallway, livid at the interaction. _The little fool doesn't know down from up. _He sighed at the probability of having to keep up the charade for some time. He longed to educate her on how to properly address him no matter what form he wore, but there would be plenty of time for that. She appeared to be stronger than his Bella had been, more fire. _Perhaps this witch will remain in tact. _The idea had its attractions. Bella had started out quite the capable witch and she had remained useful even in the throws of insanity. More fire meant highly combustible. The process with this witch would be delicate and exact with little or no room for error. The possible yield from this little project was was multitude, a heady notion indeed.

The room was much lighter than it had been before. There was no way to tell how much time had passed as she caught up on her seventh year arithmancy text. She had no way of knowing what time or even what day it was. She wished desperately for a window. When Voldemort walked in the room she froze like a deer in headlights. _I should have expected this._ She said nothing, eying him as he came closer. It was strange how she had felt comfortable in what was almost assuredly the Malfoy family library. As if the books would somehow save her. Subconsciously she must have clung to that belief because as he became closer she kept the book open and held it tightly.

"You have spoken with Tyr." She wasn't sure if it was a question or a statement, so she just stared at him mutely. "I know you weren't lying about your grades. Perhaps you are the type who can only read and regurgitate? I promise you that you do not want that to be the case."

_He must have two major moods angry or bored. _It appeared that bored just might be the more dangerous apect for her. She refused to make eye contact as she spoke, "I spoke with him."

"I spoke with him, what?" he asked as he loomed over her.

"I spoke with him, sir." she replied feeling strangely as if she were talking to Professor Snape. He loomed directly over head now, his face coming close so that all she could focus on the slits of his eyes. An almost academic curiosity filled her._ Red eyes? _If he had a nose he might have been handsome. The snake-like bend to his features made it difficult to look at him but equally difficult to look away. The effect was deeply disconcerting. She briefly wondered how his followers could get used to it, if she could get used to it.

"I am not your Professor Snape and you would do well to remember that. I expect 'master' or 'my lord' from you. As I am so graciously patronizing your further studies."

"Yes, Lord Voldemort," she jerked her eyes away from the looming figure.

"Crucio." The girl's body fell to the floor, writing in agony. He picked up the book she had dropped and sat in her seat watching her jerk to the time of her firing synapses. "The importance of manners is never properly emphasized until it's too late, isn't it?" he asked in mock sympathy. He ended the spell, after five seconds she wouldn't be able to move for a while. "Now let's try this again. I can make this much worse for you, you can place your faith in that."

She didn't attempt to move, when it came her voice was raw, "Yes Lord."

The word left his lips like a kiss, "Crucio." He smiled politely as if she could see it from her floor vantage. "It's one simple pronoun. I believe you have been warned about my patience?"

She rolled to her side waiting for the pain to subside. When it came her answer was little more than a reedy bark, "Yes my lord, I was warned."

"Excellent. You do understand that if you fail to meet my expectations you will beg me for death?"

She sat up as soon as the room quit spinning. "I spoke with Tyr, but that doesn't mean what he said makes sense. Please verify or deny his assertions that you want to train a mudblood!"

"Tyr has very little reason to lie to you. He is also rarely wrong. I will not 'train' you little mudblood, Tyr will drill you in your basics. Once he deems you fit, I will open a world of magic to you that you cannot yet conceive of. Hogwarts in many respects holds its brightest students back. I could not let a witch of your caliber stagnate in her halls. I offer you the opportunity of a full education, the kind you can get nowhere else."

"What do you get out of this? What happens if I refuse?"

"Refusal would be...inadvisable. I would be displeased, you would beg for death. As I see as you seem to welcome her icy clutches, I would simply refuse to introduce you to her. There are many other things with which I could occupy your time.

Hermione did not want to consider what 'other things' might entail. She had heard many rumors about what Death Eaters did to their victims at revels, the kindest of which involved death. "I need time. Please give me time to think about this. "

"You will give your answer to Tyr, next you see him. You will respect him as if he were myself. You will stay in this room until I say otherwise." His eyes narrowed as he assessed her, "You will not alter your appearance without my command again."

It was a small victory that she did not flinch at his passing. Then entire room seemed to darken in his presence and did not become lighter at his departure. It took her a moment to realize it was not the room, but her peripheral vision that was darker. She reached for her hair and cursed. The lock she touched was a jet ringlet.

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To my wonderful reviewers:

Veronica-s- Thanks! Hopefully you like the rest!

Kathy376fun- Glad you like it! I totally agree with you Tom Riddle is incredibly fascinating, but the initial battle image was so strong I had to write it out.


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